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I woke up in a haze. Literally, in a haze of smoke. Wheezing due to probable smoke inhalation, I looked around my room, which was covered in a grey fog.

I hopped out of my open window, a bit confused as to why it was open. Whatever, gotta go save Johnny. Wasn’t the first time.

Sprinting around to the front door, I flung it open, greeted by a thick cloud of smoke. I coughed into my arm, pulling the collar of my t-shirt over my nose with the other.

“Johnny!” I yelled for my brother, my calls a bit muffled through the fabric of my shirt.

All I got in return was silence.

I started to panic. Turning around and looking at the neighborhood, now everywhere was blanketed in smoke. I tried to scream, but couldn’t as the fog pushed me down, way down into the ground.


Snap. My eyes flew open and I could feel the thickness of my bedspread on my body. And a blaring noise. Sunlight seeped through the slits of my blinds.

“Sorry, the bacon got a little over cooked,” said Johnny, who was perched on top of a step-stool turning off my fire alarm. 

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